


there ain't nothing that i need

by zacscottysnl



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacscottysnl/pseuds/zacscottysnl
Summary: He spent his life never being enough, never doing the right thing, never being a good son or a good boyfriend. He was the one who needed to change, the one who needed healing, the one who needed fixing.
Relationships: Annie Edison/Jeff Winger
Comments: 30
Kudos: 150





	there ain't nothing that i need

**Author's Note:**

> Hello. This is something I've been working on (and off) for about three years and it's evolved through many different forms. I've always wanted to write something that expressed my interpretation of Jeff and his relationships, so this was my attempt! I hope it's decent.

Dating Michelle was like making a new year’s resolution. It felt like a fresh start, a new version himself. It was the same feeling he’d get after completing a rigorous workout. Accomplished, energized, and satisfied. It was his first adult, monogamous relationship and it felt like a new beginning. If he could have a steady girlfriend, who was to say he couldn’t get his life together and go the extra mile? Get that degree and go back to the life he so desperately missed.

Michelle was his new _life_ resolution.

Too bad Jeff Winger never really stuck to his resolutions.

It started off better than he anticipated. The sex was fan-fucking-tastic and occurred on a regular basis. She had a good sense of humor and her biting wit was just enough to match his own. She appreciated his expensive taste and lifestyle, and she wasn’t shy about the fact that her own income was better than most.

Even though he had two years on her, they had the thrill of the professor-student thing and it turned him on more than he liked to admit. And then there were the times they’d sneak around Greendale, finding all the places they could get it on without anyone suspecting a thing. The roof of the rec center, who knew?

He bought her flowers once or twice, after their first major fight. And although Britta was the one to really save his ass, he felt that same sense of accomplishment and pride after they made up because he was an adult and he could really do this thing. That was what adult relationships were, right? Living life until the next conflict, working your way ~~around~~ through it and moving on.

Adult relationships also meant regular sleepovers. For a guy who had a colorful and endless sexual past, he was never one to spend the night with a partner. There was the one time it happened when he was in the middle of conning the state of Colorado into believing he was a lawyer, but he supposed it was a moment of weakness because he feared of what would happen if he was left alone with that small pit of anxiety bubbling deep within himself.

But when he was with Michelle, the sleepovers came pretty quickly. Even before they slapped a label on the relationship, spending the night felt as easy as taking a breath. Maybe Greendale was to blame, that place took his sanity and shook it like a snow globe until it was falling in flakes around him and he had no choice but to watch the pieces land at his feet.

But there was also a comfort there, in having a regular routine with a someone other than his local gym. Sure, it scared him at first, especially when he heard the dreaded word _boyfriend_. Jeff Winger was never anyone’s boyfriend and he wasn’t about to buy a letterman jacket and give her a promise ring. But that wasn’t really the scary part when he thought about it. He was scared because it meant change. It meant that he had to change his ways and he never handled change particularly well.

But that’s what resolutions were all about. So pop the champagne, throw on a party hat. Jeff Winger was somebody’s boyfriend.

It was a fate that he accepted, and he told himself that he needed to take this particular step. If he wanted to get through the next four years at that school disguised hell, he needed to embrace this new aspect of his life. Michelle had the maturity he needed, that kept him grounded. A maturity that reminded him that it wasn’t normal to have rivalries with eighteen-year-old college debate competitors, nor was dragging a screaming man out of the library as he threatened to mess with the fabric of the little group of people he somehow conned into being his friends.

But just because he accepted the relationship into his life, didn’t mean that the change came easily, or completely, for that matter. He spent thirty-five years of his life with his walls built higher than The Great Wall, so forgive him if sharing his life with another person didn’t come as naturally as she would have liked.

There was a lot he didn’t share with her, like his past or his relationship with his mother. They rarely stayed at his apartment because he feared what she might think when she walked into his bathroom to find his toiletries locked in a safe, or what she might say about the framed posters he never hung on the walls because he refused to believe the arrangement was permanent.

He still kept his nose buried in his phone most of the time, even during Law & Order night when she would eat through the tub of Chubby Hubby ice cream that they were supposed to be sharing. She never understood why, that when she asked about his less-than-legitimate career as a lawyer, he would change the subject faster than he could strip them of their clothes and fall into bed.

There was one time after sex when they were laying in her bed before going to sleep. He rolled off her and they caught their breaths, and Jeff marveled in the fact that the sex was still good, even after having it for two months straight. He’d never had a consistent partner for so long and he didn’t know it was possible. He was in a good mood, feeling that same refreshed and accomplished feeling.

He was nailing this relationship thing.

He looked over at her and she didn’t seem to be experiencing the same revelation. She already tucked the sheet up under her arms and she was watching him with something closer to a frown rather than an invitation for Round Two. He knew a dreaded conversation was coming and he wanted to avoid whatever words were about to come out of her mouth and slap him in the forehead, so he looked away and wordlessly grabbed his phone that was sitting on top of the night stand. He began scrolling through his text message inbox, looking for nothing in particular.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” He refused to look at her.

“We were intimate not even two minutes ago and now you’re paying more attention to your phone than you were to me.”

He let his arm drop and looked at her incredulously, “That’s not true.”

“Why do you take it to bed with you anyway? It’s like it’s glued to your hand. You missed the entire plot of Law & Order tonight!”

He tried to play it off easily, shrugging and casting her his suave and charming demeanor. “I’m an important person, baby.”

“Clearly you have yet to grasp the concept that your girlfriend is important too,” she said in a frustrated tone. “I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to date a man-child.”

Now he was utterly confused because the entire conversation came out of left field. He thought they were having a good night.

“Where is this coming from?”

He felt a mixture of panic and dread, because he’d already committed to the change. What more did she want from him?

She sighed, “You’re so closed off, Jeff. We never go to your apartment, you don’t talk about your family. You refuse to speak about your life as a lawyer.” She practically scoffed, “It’s actually really childish.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said. “And fine. We can go to my apartment tomorrow night,” he added lamely.

“Jeff,” she placed her hand on his arm. “Let me in.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, staring at her hand. It felt like it burned him. He shrugged, swallowing thickly.

“Fine,” it was all he could say. He didn’t have the energy to argue with her and to be honest, he didn’t _want_ to argue with her. He then turned away from her onto his side, with nothing more than a lame, “Goodnight.”

She let out a frustrated breath before mirroring his position.

Funny. Two weeks later she dumped him because things were getting too serious. The irony of situation was so glaring that he almost found the humor in it.

* * *

Jeff was an expert at a lot of things. Impressing women, pretending to be a lawyer, drinking the finest scotch, finding the pair of jeans that fit _just right_.

Avoiding his mother.

He made it seven whole years with nothing more than a phone call every few months and a visit on most holidays. And it was even more impressive that he made it almost an entire year without telling her he was disbarred and currently attending community college to get a degree he should have earned thirteen years ago.

It was easy to keep up the lie when he didn’t see the woman more than three times a year.

He loved his mother, he really did. She built him up when he was a child, to an alarming degree actually. But he supposed it was her way of making up for the crap they put up with from his father. He didn’t resent her for it. He wasn’t angry with her. Avoidance was just easier.

The less time he spent in that house meant there would be less time reminding himself that he was a liar just like his father. A different kind of liar, no doubt, but a liar nonetheless. He knew it would break his mother’s heart to hear the truth about the matter, which was why he did everything in his power to _not_ tell her. In four years, he’d be practicing law again and she wouldn’t know a thing.

When she did manage to get a hold of him on the phone, he’d keep the conversations short and ended the calls before she could ask him the routinely set questions like, “Meet any special ladies lately? Why haven’t I seen you since Thanksgiving/Christmas/Easter? How’s work been treating you?”

At least if he ended the call before she could ask, he wouldn’t be lying.

He was always good at hiding things from her. It was another one of his specialties. When he was a kid, he hid the fact that he spent most nights crying in his bedroom, wondering why his father left. When he was a teenager, he hid half empty, cheap bottles of whiskey under his bed, saving them for the nights he needed that extra push. And when he moved out at eighteen, he hid the fact that he spent the first eight months struggling to feed himself almost every night because his temp job paid next to nothing, and he refused to find a roommate to compensate for the rent he forked over every month.

And as an adult, he hid the fact that he never earned his bachelor’s degree and that he cheated on the LSATs, but it didn’t matter in the end because he was a successful lawyer earning a damn good paycheck and was living in a condo that would make most men his age jealous. Jeff Winger was made to live the large life and he really didn’t care what it took to get there.

Think he didn’t deserve it? Sue him. He’d lie his way out.

Yeah, Jeff was good at hiding things from his mother. But she was also good at looking deep into his eyes and forcing the truth right out of him. Which is why when he was a kid, it didn’t take more than a “How’d you sleep?” before the tears tumbled out of him and begged her to make the hurt go away. And when he was a teenager and came home late at night, she’d take in his tired expression and ask where he’d been and what he’d been doing. The truth slipped out as easily as the alcohol sliding down his throat. And the one time he visited her after moving out, she noticed his baggy jeans and slimmer face and fed him three meals in one sitting. After that, he’d find that the mailman delivered boxes filled with food to his doorstep once every two weeks.

Thinking about it, maybe he was never good at hiding things from his mother.

Deep down, somehow, he knew if she spent only an afternoon with him, she’d have the truth about his fraudulent career tumbling out of him before he could distract her with a compliment. He had no idea what she would say, if she would ask him to fess up and resign. If she would tell him to do what he thought was best, while displaying a disappointed smile he’d seen too many times in his life.

And now that the gig was up, he _still_ couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. Because somehow, it felt even worse to be on the top of the world, only to fall so fast to the pavement without so much as a warning. No matter what truth he told her, the outcome would only break her heart.

Then he’d really be like his father, huh?

But that was one person he promised himself he would never become. So when he made the decision to finally tell his mother, he accepted the fact that it didn’t matter if he would have to face her disappointment. It didn’t matter if her heart might break at his mistakes. Because he loved her, and he would find a way to make it better.

And maybe he realized that after almost fifteen years of avoiding her, it was time to let her in. Because she needed him too.

It all made sense that the night he decided to come clean was also the same night he fled a cafeteria full of people after two women professed their love to him, and then only minutes later, made out with a person who crept into his life/brain/heart unexpectedly.

His life was a fucking mess.

The drive to his mother’s house was a panicked filled race to get away from that damn school, all with a sinking feeling right at the pit of his stomach. Somehow it felt worse than the dreaded day he got the call from Ted to join him in his office _for a chat_.

What was he supposed to say to her?

“Hi mom, remember how I was a lawyer? Yeah, well, turns out I was lying to you this whole time. And this time last year I got disbarred so I’ve been attending community college for the past nine months to get a real degree. Why am I dressed like this? Well, there was a dance at that freak show of a college I attend, and not one but _two_ women professed their love to me and I bailed. Just like dad. And then I kissed a teenager because she didn’t move across the country with her dumbass hippie boyfriend. Sorry I haven’t called since Christmas.”

But when he eventually got to his mother’s house, it didn’t happen like that at all. She answered the door and he fell into her arms and hugged her for all she was worth. She was shocked, but could you blame her? Hello, Christmas! But she didn’t question him until he finally released her and she sat him down with a cup of tea and a plate of leftovers.

It was then that he told her the truth, that he revealed everything that had been gnawing at him from the deepest part of himself. He apologized, and because she was a damn wonderful lady, she forgave him for the lying. For everything.

“I’m sorry mom,” he said, looking down at his lap.

“I know, honey. It’s okay.”

“You don’t have to forgive me. What I did was wrong.”

“You’re my son,” she said simply.

“What a crap son.”

“Jeffrey, stop it.”

He looked at her, the most vulnerable he’d ever been. “Thanks for listening. And for being a good mom.” She smiled sadly at him and stood from her chair to hug him. The feel of her arms around him was comforting, and he wished he could stay there forever. But no matter what she said, he knew he didn’t deserve to feel comforted. He didn’t deserve _her_. “I should go.”

“I want you to stay.”

“I need to go home and, and figure everything out. I don’t want to bother you with this.”

“I’m your mother,” she said. “Let me take care of you.”

The words made his shoulders sag in relief, for they’d been tense all night. Once he felt his eyes getting hot, he made the decision to stay.

Because yeah, he made a fucking mess of his life at this point, but he was allowed to want his mother. Maybe he did deserve her.

Maybe.

* * *

Sleeping with Britta was easy. The sex was good and a pretty regular thing once they both decided it was nothing more than a mutual exchange of pleasure.

Plus, there was the whole thrill of sneaking around behind everybody’s backs.

It kept him going that second year. When they started, he wasn’t even halfway finished at Greendale Community Purgatory, so it was an easy decision to make. It kept him occupied for the most part, and it made the dragging days seem less dreadful. Plus, he was getting some, so he rarely found himself hitting bars trying to find random women to take home.

It saved him time and effort.

It was funny, he spent so much of his first year trying to get into Britta’s pants, and for a better part of that year, he was willing to go the extra mile to make that happen. Little did he know that soon enough, after one round of table sex, a false declaration of love, and a lot of bickering later, his plan would finally fall into place.

It was what he wanted all along, wasn’t it?

There were times though, when they were doing it that he thought of the study group. Okay, not when they were _doing it,_ because _gross._ But times when he’d be driving to her broken down studio apartment that he’d think about the fact that he got more than he wanted when he became friends with that odd group of people. He found a family he didn’t know he was looking for, and okay, he didn’t want to get sappy, but he supposed it made his time at Greendale worthwhile. Even more so than all the sex he’d been having.

But at the end of the day, he was an adult man who was horny more often than he’d like to admit, so he wasn’t going to end whatever he and Britta were doing.

There weren’t any real feelings there. Sure, maybe during that first year, he was willing to woo her. But she pretty much gagged at every attempt, so he was fine with dropping the act (was it an act?) and jumping into bed with her, or nearest supply closet, or empty classroom. But like he said, there weren’t any feelings there and he was aware that she was seeing other guys. She’d even go as far as describe how good or bad the sex was while she was practically taking his pants off. He honestly just shut up and listened because he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

And maybe there was a part of him, in the way, way back of his mind that told him it was because he didn’t need that emotional connection with her. Because he was getting it from somewhere else.

Someone else.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t think of a certain little brunette every time he made the decision to text Britta. Because he was man enough to acknowledge the fact that he wasn’t sharing blanket fort revelations and post-Real-World-audition-tape hugs with just anyone. And he never got fucking jealous when _Britta_ showed interest in a goody two-shoes with a medical degree and an exceptional talent for pottery.

So yeah, maybe he was getting his emotional fill from Annie and his physical needs met by Britta. And maybe that made him a fucking terrible person, but he already knew he was an asshole, so what did it matter?

He and Annie would never be more than friends who kissed twice on occasion, so what was the point in feeling bad for what he and Britta were doing?

There was no muss, no fuss.

He reminded himself of that every time they were finished and recuperating in her bed/his bed/the backseat of his car. Wherever they were. Half the time she got dressed without saying a word and left, other times he’d leave her with a sarcastic quip and smirk that meant, “Thanks, that was fun, let’s not do it in front of your cat next time.”

When they weren’t doing it, Britta got on his nerves most of the time and he found her feminist, anarchical spiels of nonsense annoying to the point where he’d debate walking out of the study group if there weren’t five other people rolling their eyes along with him. But he was willing to ignore those annoying quirks when they were alone.

She really didn’t attempt to lecture him when they were in bed, and he was glad because it was a major turn off unless they were doing some role-playing shit. But there were the times when she’d be pissed at him because of something he’d said earlier in the day and she’d be annoyingly condescending to the point where he’d almost leave before they got to the good stuff.

Or when she’d get that damn god complex because she’d remember that his life was pretty fucked up, and she’d ask why he was still a narcissistic dick most of the time, and did he still have major daddy issues?

The worst of it came after Pierce was in the hospital and he spent an entire day driving everyone completely insane. He didn’t think he’d ever forgive the bastard for all the crap he pulled about his father, but he still felt fucking bad because Pierce was his friend and _if you have friends then you have a goddamn family_. It was probably one of the worst days of his life, but not for Britta. No, it was a fucking celebration.

And she didn’t let up even days later when Pierce was back home and things were just getting back to normal. But something pissed him off, he couldn’t remember what, so he gave her a call anyway. It might have been Leonard eating the last of the macaroni, or maybe it was seeing Annie flirt with some guy from her marketing class by the vending machines.

Whatever.

But he showed up to her apartment and they got to it with nothing more than a “I hate parking on the fucking street” in greeting. And when they were done, they laid beside each other in bed and he couldn’t remember why he was all that upset in the first place. And he didn’t leave right away this time because he was kind of hoping for a second round, and he was maybe thinking that it wasn’t so bad to have this with her, and maybe if they ever became more than this someday, he wouldn’t terribly hate it.

But of course, she was Britta, and that wasn’t possible, and she ruined it a minute later when she decided it was time to force him into a nowhere near legitimate therapy session.

“So, Pierce really fucked you up the other day,” she said, sitting up in bed and pulling out a cigarette and lighter seemingly from nowhere. She was still wearing her bra and tank top and he never understood why she remained half-clothed most of the time. It kind of annoyed him because she acted as if he wasn’t worthy of her intimacy.

He watched her, already pissed off, because he hated when she smoked anyway. “He messed with everyone, Britta. Or do I have to remind you that all of your parking tickets would have seemingly disappeared if wasn’t for Abed’s stupid camera.”

She laughed, not even that upset, because once again, at least she wasn’t as fucked up as him. “I’m a generous friend, dick. LeVar Burton told me so.” She took a long drag and blew out the smoke with her chin in the air.

He rolled his eyes, losing the energy to spar with her.

“You know, I think Pierce is really on to something.”

“Sorry, I think I’m having a stroke,” he said. “You just said Pierce is on to something.”

“He brought a lot of your daddy issues to the surface. I think it’s about time you get your shit together and do something about it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah well, lucky for me, I don’t care what you think.”

She rolled her eyes, “Come on, Jeff! You have to talk about it with someone!”

“Yeah, my therapist. And last time I checked, she wasn’t you.”

Her eyes lit up and she turned to him.

“She will _never_ be you.”

“Oh, come on, I’m perfect for this!” She placed her hand on his arm, “Let me fix you.”

Before that moment, he’d never felt so much anger coming to life deep inside himself, and for a long moment all he could do was stare at her with what he assumed (hoped) was a furious expression. Where did she get off?

He pulled his arm away and swung his legs off the bed, hastily pulling on his underwear and jeans. He needed to get out of there, he was so fucking done with this conversation and he was done with people trying to fix him. Especially Britta, whose life was a notch up from low-budget, poorly acted art film.

“God, Jeff. You don’t have to be so dramatic about it. This is obviously the pain surfacing,” she added, making him much, much angrier.

And to make matters worse, one of her damn cats decided it was a good idea to take a nap on his sweater. He pulled it out from under the cat, not caring that he startled the thing enough to dart under the bed. “You never know when to lay off, do you?” He scowled, pulling the sweater, covered in cat hair, over his head.

“Fine, be that way,” she called as he pulled on his boots. “Don’t come crawling back to me when you need to face your problems before they eat you alive!”

“I can assure you I won’t,” he yelled as he slammed the door.

He wouldn’t. No, really.

He wouldn’t.

* * *

Befriending Shirley Bennett was easily one of the most unlikely things to happen to Jeff at Greendale Community College. He arrived at that school with no intention of chumming it up with anyone but his old drinking buddy and client, Professor Ian Duncan. But then he met Abed and then Abed strung along a collection of oddballs who turned out to be the most important people in Jeff’s life.

One being Shirley, a devout Christian and mother who was as kind as she was fierce. He’d never met someone who was so tirelessly generous, and he was endlessly impressed at her an innate ability to use other’s guilt as a weapon. It was devious and he kind of loved it.

Shirley was the only one in the group who was around Jeff’s age, but surprise, surprise, he never saw her as a sexual prospect…Except for that one time in a dream. And it wasn’t because of her age, or her religion, or her tendency to spew maternal advice at him and everyone else who needed it. To be honest, he didn’t particularly like the idea of getting it on with a person who bullied him into peeing when he was a child. Ugh, he forgave and forgot, it was fine (okay, he didn’t forget but he wasn’t angry with her anymore).

But just because he didn’t have eyes for her like he did Britta or Annie, it didn’t mean he saw her only as a mother. Though she was a damn good one, she was always more than that. She was a friend. Sure, they still pushed each other’s buttons every now and then, but that was expected because she didn’t approve of his drinking and bachelor lifestyle, and he didn’t particularly enjoy lectures about Jesus and being force-fed her (delicious) carb loaded desserts.

But there was a respect between them nonetheless, and although he pretended to be put off by her chastising comments, he took her words seriously because she lived a fuller life than anyone at that study table combined. Raising three children was one of the most admirable things about the woman, and she was a single mother for quite some time in between. He knew how much work it was being a single mother, and it was something that he would never let himself forget.

Even when he did something _that_ _wasn’t nice_ , and when she gave him warning looks that would make any man quiver in his designer boots, he still loved her. And yeah, she could be scary when she wanted to be, and she could hold her own in every right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t protective of her. Letting Andre back into her life was something she wanted desperately, especially with an unexpected baby on the way. But Jeff was always weary of the guy, even if he didn’t let it show.

He never liked to compare Shirley to his own mother, but Jeff had seen one too many douchebags take advantage of his mom over the years and he’d be damned if he let it happen to Shirley too. He had a feeling Andre was different, though.

He prayed to god (ugh, Shirley) that he was different.

There was that time at the spring carnival when he told her that she was the only one who really understood him, and he wasn’t really lying. Even if it was while he was trying to learn the mysterious appeal of Britta’s carney ex-boyfriend that drove him absolutely crazy. They had fun together and if he was honest, he felt a thrill when they faked a relationship and he called her “honey” and she called him “sugar” because maybe for a brief moment in time, he let himself believe he could be that for somebody someday. And obviously not with Shirley, but if a woman like her entertained the idea then maybe he wasn’t such a fuck up after all.

It was during that year that they became close friends, he’d even go as far as to say that he was closer to her than he was with Troy. They went to the movies on occasion and shared a plate of nachos at Señor Kevin’s once or twice. It kind of surprised everyone at first, even himself, but he realized that he enjoyed her company when it was just the two of them because it was one of the few times he didn’t have to worry about anything. He didn’t have to care about who he was conning into friendship, he didn’t care if his charm was working on anyone in particular, and he didn’t have to worry about what people were thinking of their relationship because she wasn’t sixteen years his junior, thank you very much.

Of course, they could butt heads like no one’s business, even when the route of all the anger and competition was because of a stupid, dumb, pointless smartphone app. You’d think after how close they’d grown over the years, they wouldn’t let something called fucking _Meow Meow Beanz_ come between them, but if he was honest with himself, it was kind of fun to get swept away in the craziness of Greendale at least one more time before she unexpectedly moved to Atlanta.

Yeah, he was inexplicably sad about the news. She was his gossip partner in crime, his foosball playing queen, his moral compass on multiple occasions. But of course, he knew she would make a good life for herself and her kids down in Atlanta. And he admired her for having the courage to do such a thing. To leave the place she called home for years and start fresh in a new and unfamiliar place. It was something he’d never be able to do, but then again, Big Cheddar was always fearless so he couldn’t even be that surprised.

However, it was no shock that he was the one to throw her a going away party and host the thing at his apartment. And okay, maybe planning the thing put a goddamn bright smile on a certain little brunette’s face, but he didn’t do it because of that. But maybe he found himself more excited than usual to accept her help and profound organization skills.

The party was a damn good time and Shirley appreciated the gesture. She even shed a few tears, to which Jeff rolled his eyes, but was secretly pleased. She caught him in the kitchen as the party was winding down and just like usual, she was both loving and wise and fierce and everything he’d miss about her.

“Thank you for the lovely party, Jeffrey!”

“It was a team effort,” he smirked.

“Even so, getting you to participate is one hell of a task, so I think your effort counts twice as much.”

“Whatever you say, Shirley.”

“Don’t you undercut that sweetness! I’ve watched you do it time and time again, and I’m tired of it.”

“Well, good thing you won’t be around anymore to watch me do it,” he said jokingly, but for some reason it cut a little deeper than he intended.

Her eyes instantly became serious and she pointed a finger at him. “Let me tell you something, Jeffrey,” she began and all he could do was listen. “This has got to be the hundredth time I’m telling you this, but this heartless, wounded soul shtick isn’t foolin’ nobody and it sure as hell isn’t foolin’ me.”

The smiled he plastered over his face, the same one he had every time she lectured him, slowly faded and he took in the resoluteness of her voice. He gulped.

“I know your heart his in there, I mean, look around you, Jeff!” She gestured to the party going on in the next room. “Your heart is one of the greatest gifts you can give, and it’s a damn shame for you to hide it.”

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, because his heart had been trampled on and kicked around since sometime around six years old, and you better damn believe that it was never enough for most people.

“Stop hiding it, Jeff,” she said in a much softer tone.

“I don’t think anyone’s missing it,” he said, unable to allow her touching sentiment to be the final words on the matter. But that was what he did when it felt like he was stripped naked with all his scars and insecurities on full display.

“You’re a damn fool,” she said.

Yeah, he was, but he already knew that.

* * *

If you were to count the number of things in Jeff’s life that he spent so much of his time and energy fighting before he finally gave into their magnetic pull, there would be enough on that list to make you think twice about his claim to be a cynical son of a bitch. He would argue that fact of course, but once he accepted a certain six (seven, eight, nine…) people into his heart, including a school that had an average of about five dances per year, it wasn’t so easy to keep up the facade.

There were just some people/places/things that Jeff couldn’t shake from his system/brain/heart.

Falling in love with Annie Edison was number one on that list, written in purple ink.

Remember that sanity he was talking about? Yeah, he never really had it.

Did he mean for it to happen? No. Did he want it to happen? Not really. Did he just wake up one day and decide that she covered every inch of his heart? Again, no.

He could say that she blindsided him, or that she snuck up on him and his ability to hold people at arm’s length. Because that was what he did, it was what he was used to. What he was good at. Screw being a lawyer, if there was one thing that Jeff Winger succeeded in, no, _excelled_ at, it was holding people at arm’s length.

And during that time of pushing her away, during those six years of denying and hiding and ignoring, he could say that she slipped past him when he wasn’t looking. When his mind was focused elsewhere. Focused on keeping statistic professors happy or falling into bed with his friend that he argued with like a sister.

Or maybe it happened during the “important” moments, like graduating and paintball and making too many dioramas.

But that wouldn’t be the truth.

She was always there. In his heart. Even on that first day as she sat to his left in her little green cardigan and he spoke about ice cream and pencils and Ben Affleck. When she used her eyes and tears to get him to attend a stupid party for Dia de Los Whatever. When she let her hair down and he saw her in a way that he never had before.

She was the reason he felt the urge to follow his defective moral compass. And she was there when he felt the need to prove himself to everyone who ever questioned his ability to lawyer his way out of any situation. And she was there, even during the harder times, when the steps he took were too large for even himself and he fell flat on his face.

And she was there when his actions spoke louder than his words ever could, and maybe sometimes those words hurt everyone standing in the small force field of people he actually cared about. And maybe she was the one who felt it a little deeper than everyone else whenever he screwed up. And maybe he knew that but did it anyway.

Whether it was when he was sneaking around with a mutual study group member, or when he told her everything that she felt for him was all in her head. Or during that brief (so goddamn brief) moment of time when he was engaged to someone else, when he knew deep in his heart that it was the wrong person.

So yeah, he was capable of hurting her time and time again, and maybe he kept doing it because it meant that he would never be good enough for her. And maybe if he did it just _one more time_ , she’d realize that she deserved better and let him go.

She deserved better than him. Hell, she deserved better than every person she’d ever met. Because Annie Edison is a force to be reckoned with.

But maybe that was why she wouldn’t let him go. Maybe it was why that when he put all is cards on the table and she saw each and every one, the good, the bad, the fucked up…She still wanted him. She didn’t ask him to change, she didn’t ask him to deal out a new deck. She took them for what they were. For who he was.

But how the hell was he supposed to be okay with that?

He spent his life never being enough, never doing the right thing, never being a good son or a good boyfriend. He was the one who needed to change, the one who needed healing, the one who needed fixing.

And then (not so) suddenly there was this woman, this force, who didn’t expect anything of him other than honesty. Even after _six_ goddamn _years_ of The Jeff Fucked-Up Winger Show, she only wanted his honesty.

And sure, he could kiss to her win a debate, strip down to his underwear to look for a mysteriously missing pen, spend all night uncovering fake conspiracies (fake guns and a ruined sweater included), defend a murdered yam for the sake of her ever-so-important community college biology grade, run around campus with her to (platonically) uncover the sick culprit who was putting spare change down people’s pants. He could do all of that for her, he would do every single ridiculous thing she asked of him.

But he couldn’t be honest about his feelings for her. Everything, from the lasting looks and genuine smiles he saved just for her, the electric feeling under his skin whenever she lovingly smacked him, to the giddiness he felt whenever she chastised him for being his sarcastic, snarky self. The unforgettable feeling of her lips against his…

He really couldn’t tell you the moment it happened. The moment his feelings for her went from something of pure fondness to genuine affection.

But he knew the moment that he allowed himself to admit it. It was only when the stakes were high enough to break his already cracked heart, when the two people he cared about most were ready to leave him behind in the mess that was his disappointing life. He fled to the study room, because apparently he owes his entire life to that table, and his mind wandered to a day dream he had countless times.

Of course, she found him there, when he was the most vulnerable. When the fight finally gave out and he told her the truth that was six years too late.

And then because she gave so much of herself to him, to everyone she cared about, she let him in. Even when he didn’t deserve so much as a goodbye.

He once told her that relationships were complicated, and he wasn’t lying. He will stand by the statement until his dying day, and he’s pretty sure any of the women in his life could attest to the theory. But what he didn’t tell her, what he didn’t tell himself for the longest time, was that relationships, if they were the right ones, could be easy. And sometimes they could feel like home.

She felt like home. 

But she was better than her home, than Greendale. She was better than him.

So when he kissed her goodbye, it was goodbye. It was a release of everything he’d ever felt for her. She was moving on from him, from everything he refused to give her for six years.

And even with the kiss and the smiles and the too many variables, he was certain it was their ending. Their ending in this long, unpredictable, extremely zany but undoubtedly cherished chapter in Jeff’s life.

He was certain it was goodbye.

But because she was Annie Edison and she had the pristine ability to surprise him and his (not so) cynical heart, it wasn’t.

When he drove her and Abed to the airport for their ~~final~~ goodbye, it felt light. It felt easy. It felt like a _see you later_. He thought back to the conversation they shared the night before she left.

“How could you still want me? After everything?”

“Because I love you, Jeff. I love all of you.”

The only thing he could do was kiss her. And it felt like that first time, when he had no other choice but to press his lips against hers, to hold her close and forget about everything else. It felt like smiles across a table, like winning debates and saving Greendale. It felt like everything he’s always wanted. It felt like Annie.

She was his person. She was _the_ person.


End file.
